There Is No I in Team, There is However a Me
by mythweaver1
Summary: FFIV. TAYish. AU. Teams aren't made overnight and the Eblan Four needs some work on their people skills. (Why ninjas shouldn't be allowed near coffee, cont...)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is...kind of a follow-up to "Ready, Aim, Spoon" (but not really).

This story is dedicated to the Honey Badger and Tall Mann, two people who helped me get through last year's long, long winter…and also for keeping me (moderately) sane during my last holiday season wearing an apron. Despite not being able to join them again this year, I still remember the stories.

To dysfunctional teams ;)

0-0-0

**There is No "I" in Team, There is However a "Me"**

Troia was a vast kingdom. Riddled with hills and rivers, and an endless number of trees, it seemed to stretch on for eternity. And the trees…they snarled and snagged, and choked the roads. Even on the brightest days, the canopy blocked out the sun and made orienting oneself an obnoxious feat at best.

Edge had sent a team of his elite ninjas into the farther reaches of the kingdom; during what they soon discovered, was Troia's most infamous season—winter. They were in mountain country after all, and while the rest of the kingdom had mild weather year round, they were not so lucky. Snow piled branches twisted and twined overhead, and of the Eblan Four, the group had elected Tsukinowa to climb up the trunks and scout ahead.

"Are we anywhere close?" Gekkou called up to the sure-footed boy.

Tsukinowa made a face; pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes. "Five miles at least," he answered wearily, annoyed at having corrected their path six times already.

"I thought one of you would have brought a compass," Zangetsu grumbled at them.

Izayoi sighed, walking beside the older man. She had heard stories of his deeds as a foot soldier in the king's army; but she was hardly convinced he could still lift a sword, let alone grace the ninja ranks.

"I would have brought a compass, had I not already known that the Lodestone cavern would skew our bearings," she informed him tartly.

Izayoi heard Gekkou's eyeroll without bothering to look at him—it was the click of his tongue that did it.

"Leave it to Izayoi to have an answer for everything," he muttered.

Izayoi indignantly flipped her long braid over her shoulder. "Be glad that _someone _in this group has any sense," she complained at Gekkou. "You had us walking in circles for hours."

Gekkou glared back at her, incensed, as Tsukinowa hopped down the branches to the ground, sending snow falling around them in heavy clumps. The boy pounced on Gekkou from behind and swiped the older man's hood over his eyes.

"Tsukinowa!" Gekkou barked, his voice echoing off the trees. He swatted at the boy in retaliation, but Tsukinowa blithely jumped away, laughing.

"How quickly you forget that _I'm _the person who's been doing all the work," the boy reminded him. "I don't see the rest of you doing any climbing."

"It's about time we reached our destination, don't you think?" Izayoi complained, leading the four of them through the snow.

0-0-0-0

The village Edge had sent them to was far from the capital. If anything, it was an island of civilization amidst a sea of green—or white, rather. It was well insulated from the rest of the world, and despite Edge being convinced that _something _was awry here that concerned the people of Eblan, Izayoi remained unconvinced. And she would remain unconvinced until they could inspect the city and be on their way again.

_Fools errand, _she fumed. _A fool's errand in the company of fools._

Within moments of walking through the village's main gate, the four of them were accosted by a middle aged man wearing a dingy coat over rough spun trousers. His boots were leather wrapped over wooden soles and a quick glance at his hands told Izayoi he was a man accustomed to a hard day's work.

"It's about time my promised help showed up," he told them without preamble.

"Excuse me? Promised by whom?" Gekkou asked, frowning.

"Didn't say," the man said, screwing his face into a speculative scowl. "Just said that there were four individuals who knew a thing or two about working hard."

The four of them exchanged glances. Oh, they knew exactly who had put them up to this and why.

"This is our 'mission' then?" Zangetsu asked bleakly.

"You won't be traveling anywhere, anyway," the man informed them. "A storm is coming."

"We've faced inclement weather before," Gekkou said boldly. "If we can survive winters in Eblan, surely we can survive this."

"Survival is one thing, but traveling is another," the man said with a dark chuckle. "Good luck navigating the forest when you can't see the sun. You'll be turned around in circles for sure."

Izayoi groaned. "How long?"

"A day at least," the man told them, looking them up and down. "And it will be a few days more before the roads will be cleared."

Zangetsu bowled past the baffled man without another word and kept on going.

"Where are you going? Tsukinowa asked, torn between following and staying put under the annoyed gaze of their supposed "employer".

Zangetsu looked back at him crossly, pointing emphatically to his knees. "_I _could have told you a storm was coming," he remarked. "Every joint in my body wants a warm place to rest and a bed to sleep in. I'm assuming you have this, at least?" he asked offhandedly of the shop keeper.

The man raised one brow, affronted. "The town inn has plenty of room," he replied, turning to accompany the elderly ninja. "But don't get too comfortable. I'll need you come morning, and earlier than you might be accustomed to rising."

"I doubt that," Izayoi muttered, wondering if the man knew how early ninjas woke for training.

The man ignored Izayoi's bland statement and caught up to Zangetsu, leading the group toward a stately building in the center of the village. It was made of stone and had fine wooden shutters that were painted green.

The man led them inside, spoke to the innkeeper, and gave each of them the keys to their rooms.

"I will see you before dawn," he told them before departing.

"Before dawn?" Tsukinowa inquired, frowning. Out of the four of them, he was almost as needy as Zangetsu when it came to eating and sleeping—but mostly sleeping.

"Oh please," Izayoi scolded the boy. "Put your teenage hormones aside and focus for once."

"I'm not the reason we were sent here to begin with," Tsukinowa shot back at her.

"I am perfectly capable of working with others," Izayoi spat. "It's the rest of you who are incompetent."

"I think that you need to re-examine that notion. You are the common denominator of this situation we're in," Zangetsu told her mildly.

"Just because we were given an ultimatum to accomplish this task or be disbanded, doesn't mean that you get to boss us around like you have special consideration from the king," Gekkou told her.

"I do, in fact," she reminded him.

"How so?" Gekkou asked suspiciously.

"I know him best."

"Just because you've been here a few months longer than the rest of us—" Gekkou argued.

"I've proven my worth," she retorted. "Any one of you is replaceable."

"Is that because you've chased every other person off? What happened to _my _predecessor?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Izayoi stared at him, bemused. "He died."

Gekkou opened his mouth and closed it, trying to figure out if she was joking.

"Stop it, you two," Zangetsu sighed, walking between them and up the stairs. "Put your petty grievances and pride aside so we can sleep tonight."

They watched the older man climb to the inn's second level before deciding to follow him.

Their rooms were all part of a suite—attached by a common room with comfortable chairs. Tsukinowa was the first to throw himself head first into one of the armchairs, contorting his body upside down and sliding over the upholstery like some sort of overgrown feline.

It took Izayoi all of a minute to stride to the closest door and slam it shut, uttering "incompetent" in a huff.

The others winced when she threw the latch shut and retreated to rooms of their own—just as the first snowflakes began to fall.

0-0-0-0

The following morning, they were fetched by a boy wearing trousers, a long coat that was fit for an adult, gloves, and large boots. He smelled of barn and straw and Gekkou made a face when he opened the door and received a whiff of cow for his trouble.

"You're to follow me," the boy announced.

Gekkou glanced over his shoulder at the other three in the room.

Tsukinowa leaned over to Izayoi. "I thought there were only women in Troia?" he whispered.

Zangetsu leaned in at Izayoi's other side, speaking around her. "Perhaps they use the men in this town for breeding stock," he suggested.

Izayoi sighed loudly and pushed both of them away from her as she stood. "You're both fools," she said, gathering her cloak and throwing it over her shoulders. "Hurry up so we can get this over with."

The boy led them out of the inn and across the village road. Gray clouds had dumped several inches of snow already, and the winds were bowling more snow into the air and against their faces. The stinging wind abated when they entered a building that was cloyingly warm and smelled of vanilla and cloves and chocolate.

Izayoi happened to glance up at a sign above the door with the smiling face of a Medusa on it coupled with the words—Lunabux. She arched a brow and surveyed the interior of the building while her booted feet made large puddles on the floor.

Snug little tables with snug little chairs crowded the room, and on the opposite wall from the door, resided a long wooden bar with metal machines atop it that resembled airship parts.

Tsukinowa was already hovering around the counter, inspecting the gadgets and metal wands.

"Don't touch those!" their guide complained. "They can be dangerous!"

Gekkou glanced at Izayoi and caught her eye. As much as Izayoi thought Gekkou was a bit dim, she appreciated his camaraderie in the moments it mattered. Rare moments, granted.

"I need the four of you to man the shop while my father and I get affairs in order," the boy told them.

"Affairs?" Izayoi asked, not pleased by this charge.

"Yes," the boy said. "We're about to expand the business; but to do that, we need some time away from the work itself to organize accounts."

"And you want us to do what, exactly?" Gekkou asked.

The boy beckoned them around the bar so that they could see the intricate apparatus for what it was. Which was…incomprehensible, actually.

"This machine was designed by…well, someone from Baron, I think," the boy told them. "It's powered by crystal fragments, which in turn, heat a boiler tank, which creates steam, which drives the pistons, which forces water through the finely ground coffee beans."

The four of them stood around the boy with their hands on their hips, none of them understanding a word of this.

"What?" Gekkou finally asked.

"What are…coffee beans?" Tsukinowa wanted to know.

The boy stared at them, baffled; then blinked. "Right. You're not from around here."

He turned back to the machine and pulled on a lever that when depressed, exhausted steam in a high pitched hiss. "This is the steam wand," he explained, pushing the lever upwards again and turning off the steam. Then he took two small glasses, small enough to fit between his thumb and fore finger and put them underneath a shiny metal receptacle. Pressing another lever, they could hear a series of ratchets and burs turning, then a click and a pop, until a creamy caramel colored liquid poured into the small glasses set beneath, filling each one completely.

The boy held up one of the glasses. "This is a shot," he told them. "It's potent stuff. Coffee in its condensed form."

Izayoi shook her head and frowned. "That's wonderful, but that doesn't explain what it is. What does it _do?_"

"Try it," he said, holding it out to them.

Tsukinowa was the quickest, and swiped the glass from the boy, downing the shot all at once. He suddenly puffed out his cheeks while tears formed in his eyes.

The rest of them watched him curiously, observing his painful swallow and gasp. "Hot!" he hissed, staring at the glass in his hand. "And bitter," he commented after a moment.

"It's coffee," the boy shrugged. "It's bitter so that you can eat sweet things with it. Makes for good business."

"But what does it _do?" _Izayoi asked again.

"Guys, _guys, _look at this!" Tsukinowa said, distracting them. They turned to see him tapping his fingers excitedly on a counter next to another strange device with several glass pots beneath it.

Izayoi pursed her lips. "A stimulant," she announced. "And you've just given it to the most excitable person in this room."

"So," Gekkou said hesitantly, watching Tsukinowa hop around the room. "You actually allow people to consume this beverage?"

"It's like a haste spell," Zangetsu said, awed.

"Yes, we give it to people," the boy answered with irritation. "It's a business that we soon hope to spread across the kingdom, but to do that, I need to know that you people understand how to work as a team."

Izayoi rolled her eyes. "Of course," she said.

Gekkou snorted through his nose, and Izayoi glanced at him unappreciatively.

"Young sir, what exactly will we be responsible for?" Zangetsu asked.

The boy pointed to the entrance. "That door," he said, "is a sacred portal. We offer the townspeople a respite from the cold. We give them a place to rest their feet and warm their hands."

"Yes, we gathered that," Izayoi said.

The boy glared at her. "And," he continued, "All of our customers must be greeted with a smile the moment they step through that door. You must say hello to each and every person, and make them feel welcome. One person will accept coin at the counter, another will prepare the beverages, and another will work in the back on the dishes and cutlery that need washing."

"That sounds like a three person job," Izayoi pointed out.

"The other person will clear tables, keep the café tidy, and assist where needed in other areas," the boy said.

"That sounds like an efficient system," Zangetsu observed, stroking his beard.

"It is," the boy agreed. "Provided you're not a bunch of lazeabouts."

"But there's no one here," Gekkou noticed. "Why did you bring us here so early?"

"Oh," the boy said with a nod. "That's because we have work to do before the day even begins."

"Work?" Tsukinowa asked, still hopping. "What kind of work? Do I get to wear a cool scarf?"

"Calm down, brown squirrel," Izayoi sighed, holding the boy down by the shoulders with little success.

"Well first we have to milk the cows," the boy said, beckoning them out of the store and into the back room, and from there, to a paddock behind the building.

"Cows," Izayoi said darkly.

"We have twenty," the boy said, "And they supply enough milk to get us through the day."

"Isn't that more than you need?" Zangetsu asked, confused.

"We use some of it, and sell the rest," the boy said. "There's also the chickens whose eggs we collect, and then we have our morning flour delivery from the miller."

"I'm having—" Izayoi complained with a frown; not finishing her first thought. "You want us to be farmhands or shopkeepers?" she clarified.

The boy stared at her like it was a foolish question. "Both," he said. "This business requires a lot of work, and if you're not up to it, I'll have my father pass along to the one who sent you that you refused to assist us."

"We'll do it!" Gekkou announced, practically leaping at the chance.

Izayoi narrowed her eyes at him, and he shrugged back at her.

The boy studied each of them shrewdly. More shrewdly than a boy of his age had any business studying anyone. "One person milks, one person collects eggs, one person bakes, and another takes care of inventory and the orders that come in. I'll be back in two hours to help."

"Who wants—" the boy started.

"I'll milk the cows," Gekkou answered immediately.

"Chickens!" Tsukinowa said excitedly, bouncing out the door.

"I'll take care of the orders," Zangetsu acquiesced.

"But that means—hey!" Izayoi snapped. "Baking—me? Why?"

Everyone within earshot swiveled to look at her.

"I think, my dear," Zangetsu told her gently. "That everyone would like to see you attempt to be a lady for a day."

"_What?" _ she snarled.

"Have fun!" Gekkou and Tsukinowa both told her, giving each other a high five as they left her standing in the doorway.

**To be continued…..**

0-0-0-0

A/N: I know I'm on hiatus, but I had this typed, and Moonclaw wanted something to read. Second chapter is coming ;)

This story is based off of many collected stories from myself and others…portions may ring of the BitterBarista website…I figured I would write this before I forgot all my coffee lore ;)


	2. Green Beans

**Green Beans**

There was a definite learning curve to the morning's duties. It might have been a humbling experience for Izayoi had she understood the definition of the word; but for the others, their chores had demanded they accept a dent to their pride and ask for assistance.

The boy, Ben, looked put-upon after helping Tsukinowa with the chickens. He was plastered with feathers and scratches, and was glaring at a beaming Tsukinowa who held a basket of large brown eggs above his head.

"Useless," Izayoi heard Ben mutter as he walked past being trailed by the oblivious young ninja. She was feeling pretty pleased with herself until Ben wandered into the kitchen and saw her own work.

"What—" he began, staring at her incredulously. "What _happened _in here?"

"Banana bread," Izayoi said, swishing a dollop of flour from her cheek.

"By the mighty Leviathan," Ben muttered, walking slowly into the room. "How many bananas did you use?"

"All of them," Izayoi answered, hands on her hips.

"A_ll?" _Ben demanded, turning on her. He picked up a piece of the bread in question and put it in his mouth.

"This is the _worst _thing I've ever tasted!" he announced, throwing what was left of the bread into the scrap bucket.

"Hey!" she cried out, rushing forward to save her creation.

Gekkou was chuckling at her expense from the doorway.

"Be quiet, Gekkou!" Izayoi snapped.

"_That _one can't milk a cow, and _that _one can't get an egg without spooking all the chickens," Ben complained, pointing at the others; and then aimed his finger at Izayoi. "And _you _can't bake!"

"I received passing marks from culinary class!" she protested.

Ben laughed. "From what school?"

"From Tr—" Izayoi said, biting off the last syllable before she could finish it.

"Tr-?" Gekkou fished. "Troia?" he completed.

Izayoi's expression turned bleak. "Lose the smug face, Gekkou, before I wipe it right off."

"You went to school in Troia?" he asked, and then tilted his head at her with a calculating grin. "Who _are _you, Izayoi?"

"The woman who's about to open up a world of hurt on your—"

"Young lady," Zangetsu warned sharply; walking into the kitchen.

"Can the four of you do _nothing?" _Ben demanded, walking past them and into the front of the store. They followed.

"Now what?" Gekkou asked.

"Training," Ben said, pointing at the bar and register.

Ben's father entered the room behind them, looming like a menacing shadow. "Prepare yourselves," he said darkly.

0-0-0-0-0

"How am I supposed to read this chicken scratch?" Gekkou complained an hour later, staring at a ceramic mug that Tsukinowa had marked with a black oil pencil.

"It clearly says peppermint," the boy pointed out, annoyed.

"You're supposed to put the peppermint marking up _here," _Gekkou went on, scowling.

Tsukinowa frowned back, hands defensively on his hips. "It's _easier _if I put the 'p' next to all the other letters—since you obviously _know _it's a peppermint mocha."

"That's not the point," Gekkou insisted. "The point is that you follow the system."

"You're one to talk," Izayoi interrupted. "You couldn't remember the recipes if your life depended on it."

"What I made was delicious," Gekkou answered tartly.

"You put caramel on top of a plain coffee," Izayoi said.

"And it was delicious," Gekkou repeated.

"I would like to know who designed this confounded contraption," Zangetsu complained, depressing metal buttons on the register that held the money.

"Ben said it was made by someone in Baron," Tsukinowa said while playing with gadgets on the espresso bar.

"So…confounding _and _inefficient, and likely to explode accidentally," Zangetsu replied, stroking his beard and staring at the machine.

"Good, another thing we can rely on," Izayoi commented dryly, and then stared in surprise at the bakery in her hand. "But this bagel is delicious," she said, ignoring everyone else for a moment.

Gekkou glanced over in her direction. "How many of those have you had, now?" he asked.

"Only one," Izayoi retorted unappreciatively.

Gekkou fought the urge to laugh. "They're probably better because they had to bring in a _real _baker. Troian schooling was lost on you, apparently."

Izayoi threw the rest of her bagel at Gekkou's head. Tsukinowa intercepted it and shoved it into his mouth, grinning.

"You look ridiculous," Izayoi said sharply.

Tsukinowa, like a squirrel with a nut, proudly puffed out his cheeks and flitted away again.

"Izayoi, can you come over here and be useful with this register machine?"

Izayoi strode over to Zangetsu, glaring all the while at Gekkou. Then, reluctantly, she turned her attention to the register. She paused. "Zangetsu, what exactly were you trying to do?"

"I was looking for the button designated for that special milk Dashel mentioned."

"Ah. The milk with less cow in it," she said.

"Yes, the less fattening one," Zangetsu agreed.

"How that makes sense…" Izayoi muttered, poring over the metal buttons until she found the one marked properly. "There it is," she said, pointing to it.

Zangetsu leaned forward so far, his nose was practically pressing buttons by itself. "Oh," he said, frustrated. "Why did they have to write it with such small print?"

Izayoi leaned back to stare at the older man, amazed. If his vision was so poor, what was he doing as part of the Eblan Four?

"This is not going to work," she announced despairingly. "We may as well tell Edge in person."

"Speak for yourself—I just made the best hot chocolate of my entire life," Gekkou contradicted.

"Your milk is boiling over," Izayoi pointed out flatly.

"Oh sh-!" Gekkou cursed, trying to pull the metal steaming pitcher away from the machine without burning himself.

"I say again: hopeless," Izayoi groaned.

Just then, Ben walked back into the room. "The doors open in five minutes," he told them. "I know you're rough around the edges and we only gave you an hour of training, but we expect you to hold this place together."

Izayoi glanced at the doors and saw a crowd of faces already peering through the glass, their breath fogging up the windows.

"Wonderful," she said.

A deceptively happy "ding" turned their attention back to Zangetsu. "I've finally found it!" he said excitedly, pointing to the register. "The button that makes it open!"

Izayoi stared at him blankly. This was going to be a long day.

0-0-0-0-0-0

A/N:

Having trained several "green beans" over the years…I have to say, each one is very different, lol. And there is always something hilarious that happens when you shove a bunch of personalities into a 20 foot space and demand they work in harmony. And the more people you throw into that 20 foot space…

More to come ;)


	3. I Said I Wanted Extra

**I Said I Wanted Extra Drizzle**

"I do believe this place is held together by the power of optimism alone," Zangetsu said drolly.

"Optimism?" Izayoi coolly remarked. The others had gone on break more than half an hour ago; disregarding completely the concept of the ten minute break. "If they don't march their asses back in here in the next thirty seconds, some poor bastard is going to get poison poured into their coffee."

"Don't do that, Izayoi," Zangetsu entreated with a tired note to his already strained voice. "We're already in danger of losing our jobs and being sent back to Eblan in shame."

She snorted, snapping back the steam wand with a quick flick of her wrist and pouring the milk into a deep ceramic mug. "I will personally pour hot coffee on Edge's head in that case."

Zangetsu looked rightfully shocked. "Izayoi—the king—"

"Is a pain in my ass," she contended, brandishing the metal spoon in her hand. "This mission is ludicrous. You know it, I know it-"

"My dear, the drink," he pointed out, gazing with concern at the hot chocolate sitting half-finished in front of her.

She made a strangled sound in her throat and topped the drink with a decent portion of whipped cream and chocolate drizzle before passing it off to the oblivious patron.

"All of us know that this is just his way of getting back at us for accidentally setting fire to the castle. Again," she said, picking up where she'd left off.

"Izayoi," Zangetsu prodded, trying to signal her to a person behind her and failing.

"Let me finish!" she insisted, becoming irritated.

"Izayoi," Zangetsu repeated, pointing over her shoulder.

Izayoi turned slowly on her heel, glaring molten darts at the customer who, by their very presence, had interrupted her not once now, but twice.

"_What," _Izayoi asked, acidly.

The customer gazed back at her with a deadpan expression. "I wanted extra drizzle," she announced haughtily, pushing her cup back across the expeditionary plane.

Izayoi jerkily reached for the cup, fighting the urge to spout off some of the more profane words she had learned from her cousin. Instead, she plastered a strained smile to her lips while her eyes narrowed to slits. She plucked up the container of chocolate and poured until a solid inch of the cup had gone dark.

She slid the mug back to the customer with the sweetest "have a nice day" she could sneer.

The customer curled her lip in disgust and walked away, casting offended looks at both Izayoi and Zangetsu.

"There goes another customer," Zangetsu sighed.

"She _said _extra," Izayoi remarked, rolling her shoulders.

"You need a break," Zangetsu observed, pausing a moment to help a customer at the register.

Izayoi became violent with the espresso machine. As if taking out her anger on the gears and levers was going to make the insipid customers disappear.

"I _need _those knuckleheads to get back here," she seethed.

"Go eat something when they do," he suggested.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

Zangetsu's expression flattened. "Everyone likes you better when you've eaten," he answered evenly.

0-0-0

A/N: True. Story. ;)


End file.
